Part 8 -- Tuesday Afternoon
Later that afternoon I took Jaycee to my gym. I have difficultly staying motivated to work out during the winter months as I hate running on a treadmill. I'd much rather be out at a park or riding a bike on one of several nature trails around the city. But as much as I hated running on a treadmill, I hated breathing in freezing cold air while exercising even more. At least the gym had televisions where I could catch up on the day's news, which today was dominated by the new president's inauguration.
Unlike most of the women in the gym, Jaycee wore just a regular t-shirt and shorts instead of the matching, cutesy workout outfits designed primarily to capture people's attention. Even though a wardrobe designed to attract a man's eye on the right body shape will always be appreciated, Jaycee's lack of pretention had its own special charm. Jaycee had this odd, loping gait when she ran that I found humorous. I think the expression "you run like a girl" may have originated by watching Jaycee. You'd think being a physical therapist she'd have analyzed and corrected her gait, but no. It looked completely unnatural. Yet she threw herself into it with no thought to how she may look to others.
After exercising, we cleaned up and I took Jaycee out for dinner at one of my favorite casual restaurants. Our conversation focused on the day's events. Jaycee announced that she had lined up two appointments with massage clients for the next day to keep her occupied while Karen and I would be meeting Beck. One of my best friends had called earlier in the day, saying that he and his wife Siri were going to be in town with Beck, and wanted to schedule a Friday lunch with our favorite business school professor. I found myself telling Jaycee about him.
Billy and I knew each other from high school. He was off-the-charts brilliant. That may sound like hyperbole, but really I doubt an IQ test could come close to accurately measuring his intelligence. I first met him by sitting next to him in our Advanced Placement Computer Science class. For the first three weeks of the year I thought I was failing that course. Only then did I realize that by trying to keep up with Billy, I was actually way ahead of everyone else. Even though he was a year younger, he and I became fast friends. It was then I started going by 'Will' instead of 'Billy' as I got tired of both of us responding whenever someone called our name.
He went off to one of the Ivy League schools for college while I stayed local, attending the cheap, state-supported school. But we ended up at the same grad school. My joint degree program had me do the first year of law school, then the first year of business school, followed by a mixture of classes from the two schools the last two years. So even though Billy had been a year behind me in high school, he joined me for the first year of business classes.
By luck, we had been placed in the same section and instantly formed the leadership of the single most dominant competition team the b-school had ever seen. His analytical brilliance combined with my persuasive arguing and presentation skills proved nearly unstoppable. We destroyed everyone in our path. All but for one loss, which is a story I'll leave for another time.
Billy had offers lined up from all the top investment banks well before he graduated. He joined the most prestigious and highest paying firm up in New York City and met Steven Beck there. All of a year later, Beck spun his division off to form his hedge fund and took Billy with him. I met Beck at Billy's wedding, and was surprised to discover that my biggest competition in our fantasy football league was twice my age and ten thousand times my net worth.
"So that's the secret?" Jaycee asked me.
"What secret?" I replied.
"I asked yesterday how you got Beck as a client and you hushed up. And the answer is, through one of Beck's employees who is your best friend from high school. I was expecting something scandalous, like you had a sex tape featuring him or something."
I had to laugh at that. "You've been listening to Susan too much with all of her talk about celebrities and their sex lives. I guess I was embarrassed to admit I met him through a fantasy football league."
"Hey, whatever works," quipped Jaycee. "So you really think he's going to make you a job offer?"
"It certainly sounds that way, though I'm just hopeful I'll still be able to do some work for him down here. He's a hard person to say 'no' to, though. Thwarting his wishes while still staying on his good side takes a lot of effort. He's used to getting his way."
"You've had to 'thwart' him before?" Jaycee asked.
"A couple times when he wanted to do something that was barred by a law or regulation," I explained. "It happens with every business client."
Our conversation continued regarding my job situation. Jaycee expertly pulled information out of me with leading questions and a focused interest on my answers.
I had managed to get a little over twenty potential clients on the phone today, and left phone messages or emails with roughly another ten. I'd count myself lucky if I could get work from more than a handful of them. It was tricky trying to get them to commit to me while being vague about what resources I'd have at my disposal to use for their benefit. I couldn't tell them I'd be staying with the firm but in New York City, because I couldn't make that call yet. I couldn't tell them whether I would or would not be working with Glenda.
For most of these clients, the best I could get from them was a promise not to commit to anyone else until I made a decision. All except Premolex Manufacturing, who hinted strongly that I could join them as in-house counsel if I wanted. Karen had recommended that call when I was starting to get discouraged, knowing it would boost my ego and pep me right up.
Included in those figures were the five clients that I had found on my own over the past two years, including Beck. I just needed to get signed letters from them saying that I was going to be their legal representative from this point forward in order to get all of their files back from the firm. It was merely a formality, but an urgently necessary one.
Four other newly laid off associates called me during the day, just checking in and looking for the latest gossip. I was surprised at how little they knew, both about what was going on and concerning their own future. All four put on a confident front, explaining how they were going to be just fine, how they had plenty in the bank just in case of a rainy day, how the firm had been stupid to lay everyone off and that other firms were going to be pounding down their doors to hire them. Yeah, right. It was easy for me to agree with them. After all, their lies were my truth, and I was confident that I'd have gainful employment again soon. But I wasn't as confident about them.
I paused momentarily to consider Jaycee's situation. Here she was wallowing in debt, with no steady work and really no prospects for a job until the economy turned around. Yet her unique attributes were immensely valuable. Jaycee's uncanny ability to get people to open up to her and tell them their secrets would be worth her weight in gold to a litigator. Heck, to a corporate attorney used to doing deals as well — any bit of extra information gleaned from those on the opposite side of the negotiating table could save millions.
Could I really be thinking of offering Jaycee a job? I shook my head and refocused on the conversation. I needed to think about my own job prospects first and foremost. And I'd actually done enough thinking about that today already. Now it was time for some fun.
We made a stop on the way home at a Pleasure Palace store, a rather successful local retail chain that sells costumes, games, and sex aids.
"What are we doing here?" Jaycee asked.
"I've been thinking about what taking your ass is going to entail, and I think we may need some extra help for when we do the deed," I answered.
"Oh, like tying me down to the bed so I don't start punching and screaming?" Jaycee suggested.
"No, though that sounds like a good idea," I laughed. "I was thinking along the lines of prepping your ass for me."
"Really? How would you do that?"
"I don't know," I admitted.
"You don't?"
"No, I've never actually had anal sex. I don't know everything," I admitted.
"You don't?" Jaycee said, in what sounded like a revelation. "I guess I've been operating under the assumption that you did."
"Did what? Know everything?" I asked.
Jaycee gave me an abashed smirk and nodded affirmatively. I just laughed.
As we walked inside, there were two women behind the checkout counters in the middle of the well-lit store. A collection of outfits clad on mannequins were displayed on all four walls, including a prominent window display to intrigue passing drivers. A series of display cases and shelves filled in the remaining floor space, mostly taken up with videos and magazines. I'd only been in a store like this once before, on a lark with Hannah and another couple. This wasn't some dark and dingy store for the perverse underbelly of society. Instead, this was a tribute to how pornography and sexual adventurism had gone mainstream.
The younger of the two women gave us the once over. "Can I help you two find something?" she asked.
"I think we'll just look around at first," I replied.
Jaycee jumped in loudly with, "Are you sure, Master? Why not just ask what they have here to help prepare my ass for you?"
I just had to sigh at her pronouncement. I should have predicted Jaycee's natural propensity to try and shock people would rear its head as soon as we stepped into this store.
The saleswoman turned to her co-worker. "Marie, these are for you."
Marie looked to be in her early 30s, displayed a Rubenesque figure, and had a heavy Southern accent. It turned out that Marie called herself a 'submissive', and had been with her Master for six years. She was very helpful in suggesting a range of toys and devices to help us explore this new channel for our sexuality. She also figured out very quickly that we were neophytes.
"You do have a safe word, right?" Marie asked.
"A safe word? What's that?" I returned.
"Oh goodness, you two are just jumpin' into the pond without knowin' if you can swim, ain'tya? The first thing y'all should do when you get home is get online and start readin'. Actually, there are several books we sell here that you should take a look at, too, but I'll write down some websites for y'all to check out as well. But pick out a word right quick that will be easy to remember but won't come up reg'lar in conversation, or bedroom play neither for that matter. And then if you, William, ever do anything that Jaycee here really don't like, then she calls out the word and you stop."
"Isn't that cheating?" asked Jaycee.
"Oh no, Sugar," Marie said vehemently, "no matter how similar your beliefs and kinks are to your Master's, there's always going to be some things he wants which you don't, and some things you want that he don't. So the safe word is your security blanket. It's there for when that situation pops up. And remember, you need to always be 'safe, sane, and consensual.'"
"Ok, but ... , I mean, ... take anal sex," Jaycee explained.
